


My Ghost, Where'd You Go? (I Can't Find You In The Body Sleeping Next To Me.)

by CescaLR



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Gen, I mean really, M/M, Season/Series 06A AU, Sorry Not Sorry, Swearing, alex and his fam don't exist, we don't need any expendable extras to make the plot scary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-12 21:36:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13556055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CescaLR/pseuds/CescaLR
Summary: The wild hunt is coming.They're coming for all of us; they're already here.~~~Season 6A AU. Expect a lot of fuckery. (I mean... it's season six. I've only got so much to work with, here.)~~~





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Whaaatttt actually writing a steo fic, my god, finally making myself do so like I promised myself I would (because I see far too much of it have that particular tag filter_ids:19 which hurts my soul), yay! Also all my other ships that usually take background to the one and only Stalia, whoops. Hope you enjoy!

_"Damnatio Memoriae. It was a Roman practice. They'd - remove the faces from statues and scratch out names from - gravestones, tablets. It was a punishment for the worst criminals."_

_"They... destroyed the images... of the damned."_

_Stiles looked at Scott. Scott looked back._

_(It wouldn't be relevant for a little while._ Wouldn't be relevant until now.)

* * *

When Stiles got up this morning, he wasn't expecting things to go to shit quite as quickly as they have. He'd gotten up, expecting to go to school, apply for his yearbook photo, wait impatiently for 3:30, and then spend some time with either Scott, or Lydia, or Malia, or a combination of such (and maybe the runts - throw them in for good measure), not...

This. 

"Damnatio Memoriae, remember?" Stiles asked, rushed - and Scott nodded. After all, Scott had been the one to tell Stiles about it, way back when. In Mexico.

It's weird to think that that wasn't that long ago. It feels like years. But then, Stiles' sense of time has been screwed since being possessed, and it sure isn't looking to get any better.

Not when he's about to be erased from it. From the past, present, and future. 

"It's like that," He said. "The Wild Hunt. They erase people." He rushed out. He didn't have much time. He needed to at least get the jeep back to (what will be) his dad's drive before -

"Okay," Scott nodded, swallowed. "What do you need me to do?"

"Find some way to remember me," Stiles said. "Here."

Stiles handed Scott his car keys. He got it started with a screwdriver most days - he didn't need the keys. "Believe that they're yours. Believe it whole-heartedly, and maybe you'll get to keep them. That might help."

Scott nodded. "I have to go to Lydia," Stiles said. Lied. "She called, I missed it." 

Scott nodded. He was already frowning - better than with Liam and Hayden and Mason, but not by much. Stiles is glad he caught him. 

(He hasn't seen his dad. He thinks it might break him if he does, and the man doesn't remember.)

"Go," Scott nodded, "I'll - find Malia. Maybe you'll still be in her yearbook pictures - or she'll be reacting to someone not there..." 

Stiles nodded, clapped him on the shoulder. Scott grabbed him properly, hugged him, and then Stiles shoved himself in the direction of the doors. He didn't have any time. 

God, today should have gone so much better. Though, Stiles knows, he should have seen it coming. 

His form for a picture not being filled. Someone else wearing his lacrosse number. Ms Martin getting confused by him. 

Stiles, since he had a little time to spare, on his way to his jeep opened up his phone and checked his photos. 

None. Well, they're all there. He's just in none - no, one - wait, yes,  _none,_ of them _._

Stiles closed his phone. It's likely to be useless now. He jumped into his jeep and started driving - drove and drove, way above the legal limit because, well, it's not like he can be arrested if he doesn't exist (and if he is, well, at least the jeep will be somewhere safe) - and then he's at his home; it's not that far from the high school which Stiles is currently incredibly grateful for. Stiles parks up in the driveway then runs up to his bedroom. 

He grabs a kitchen knife on the way. Once there, he carves a message into the wood of his door - and he can hear them. He opens the door all the way, so it's hidden - maybe, maybe that'll mean it won't disappear - and acts as if he was just about to exit his room, freezes genuinely when he sees the rider. 

The Ghost Rider. A member of the Wild Hunt.

Stiles doesn't have a choice. He can see them - he's their target. 

Once you can see them, fear; for you are already lost. Thank you, Lydia's voicemail. 

(He'd gone out of the entrance that Lydia wasn't going to meet him at. Stiles didn't want to endanger a friend any more than he had to.)

Stiles closed his eyes as the Rider approached, and let oblivion wash over him. 

* * *

_That morning..._

 "Stiles, seriously, calm down." 

"Your mother actually forgot my name, Lydia." 

Lydia rolled her eyes. "She didn't  _forget_ it, Stiles."

"What do you call calling Scott, well, 'Scott', but calling me Mr Stilinski then?"

"Amusing," Lydia responded. "And a distancing technique. Remember, your dad and my mom tried to date for a little while there."

"T _ha_ t's a disturbing reminder," Stiles said, flatly. 

"Sorry," Lydia said, completely uncaring. 

"Malia's next up," Scott said. "If you wanna talk to her, talk now or after."

"Sure," Stiles said, as he got up to do the former. 

\---

"That was a good one!" Malia complained. "Now I'll have to fill in another form and go to the back of the line, again!" 

"I'm sorry!" Stiles winced. "You look pretty?"

Lydia shook her head while Scott sighed.

"And anyway," Stiles added, "Why would I want to ruin your photo?" Stiles shook his head, mystified. "I mean - it's yearbook. Our  _last one._ Why would I want to ruin that?"

"Maybe because you haven't signed up yet?" Malia asked, and Stiles squinted at her. "Uhm, excuse me," He said, then took out the form he'd filled in alongside the others. "I did. Look - her-... eh?" Stiles frowned down at the paper. "See," Malia said, eyes widening slightly as her head shook slightly, emphasising her point. 

"What? - uhm. Nevermind then. My bad." Stiles muttered, got out a pen and started filling in the blanks.

\---

 "Wait - we had practice?" Stiles asked Scott. "Why doesn't - hey, wait; OI!" He called out, to a guy passing. "That's my jersey!" He shouted, offended. 

"Coach gave it to me at practice." The guy shrugged and walked past. 

"Sorry," Scott said. "I - I forgot to say."

"Literally what the hell, man," Stiles grumbled. 

Scott winced. Stiles sighed. "Nevermind," He muttered. "Not like I ever did anything on the team anyway."

\---

Stiles was at home when he first thought something was odd. It was after school had ended - just after; the sun was still fairly high in the sky, about average for mid-afternoon. He was in his room when he heard a noise. 

"That you dad?" He called out. Didn't get a response. Feeling confused and wary, Stiles went downstairs. 

He didn't call out 'hello', like some cliche protagonist in a horror flick. But he did walk  _towards_ the strange noise, so he was likely just as stupid. 

But it was nothing. The door creaked, the curtains fluttered in a non-existant breeze. Stiles' eyebrows furrowed, but the curtains went back to normal and the door didn't make any noises. 

There was something else, though. Something that set off alarm bells. 

Stiles crouched down and picked one up off of the floor. A leaf - sometimes, those did get inside, but as Stiles looked over the rest of the floor he thought -  _not that many._ And, especially during summer. 

They were brown, too. Dead. 

Stiles licked his lips and frowned, confused and concerned. He thought he heard something - like the clop of a hoof against wood - but he turned his head and didn't see anything. 

Stiles took out his phone. "Lydia?" He asked when the call went through. 

"Again?" She asked, bored. "After our yearbook photo day, Stiles?"

She sounded tired. Stiles felt bad - but...

No. No, it was fine. He didn't need to disturb her. 

"Sorry," He said. "It's - it's nothing."

"It's not nothing," She sighed. "What did you find?"

"A lot and I'm saying  _a lot,_ here, of dead leaves on the hallway floor downstairs," Stiles started, "And I swear I heard a horse."

There was a pause. 

"I'm not crazy," He felt like clarifying. Sometimes, Stiles wasn't sure that was the case, but it felt nice to say. 

"We're all crazy," Lydia said, humourlessly. "I'll come over. It's - hopefully, nothing."

That was likely to mean it was something. Stiles nodded, then clarified since she wouldn't be able to tell like Scott or Malia (or Liam and Hayden, to an extent) could. 

"See you in a minute." She said, and the call ended. 

\---

_Little things. Little things he didn't notice. His old yearbooks, for example, had his face removed from the photo. Some pictures from the old family albums changed. Claudia's stuff returned to the dresser, his stuff was hidden. His name and number were removed from most contact lists. His birth certificate went 'poof'._

_Little things. Big things. All things that lead to this truth -_

_Stiles... stopped existing._

* * *

When Stiles came back to consciousness, he wasn't sure what to expect. A train station wasn't high on his list - maybe a saloon, you know, in keeping with the whole wild west theme - but it works, he figures. Maybe the problem is that it's so new looking; if it was like one of those old ones they had way back when, it might fit more. In truth, Stiles just feels... out of place. It seems so  _normal,_ this station. So  _ordinary._

But there's... a weird mist. Everything seems like it's got the bloom turned up a little too much, distortion turned on just enough to notice. Also... everything's green tinted. 

Which is weird. 

Stiles glanced around. He has his ID - the only thing he'd had left on him - and he held onto that like a lifeline.

His photo wasn't in it. But his name was on it - at least, the one that mattered. 

Stiles glanced around. The old lady next to him seemed more aware than most, and she seemed to know he was too. 

"Who are you waiting for, dear?" She asked. "My son should be here soon."

She was the librarian, Stiles realised. He'd - he'd forgotten her. 

"Miss Wetherby." He said, surprised. 

"My my; If it isn't the Stilinski boy!" She said, cheerfully. "Such a shame, you being here. Too young, I say. Too young."

Stiles nodded. He looked around and spotted someone - and froze. 

"How long's he been here?" Stiles asked. He knew, of course. But still. 

"Oh, I'm not sure," She confessed. "He was here before me, at any rate. You could ask if you'd like, dear, but it's likely he won't answer."

Stiles thanked her, and walked over, cautiously, to the man in question.

"Peter." He said. Then repeated himself, more insistent. " _Peter. Peter,_ wake the hell up before I punch you."

Something in that appeared to get his attention, because Peter moved his head, slightly. 

"Fucking -  _Peter Hale,_ wakey-wakey, rise and god-damn shine." Stiles snapped. "Peter.  _ **Peter**."_

There. That got his attention. 

"Stiles," Peter said. Blinked, and then - "Ah.  _Stiles."_

"Yeah," Stiles said. "Believe me, there are people I'd rather were here too."

Peter hummed, whether in agreement or acknowledgement Stiles will never know.

Stiles decided 'fuck it', and sat down on the bench. Peter raised an eyebrow at him, and Stiles looked flatly back at him. 

"... How long have I been here?" Peter asked, after a moment. He stood, and paced calmly - semi-calmly - and Stiles figured he'd been sitting there, in that exact position for... a while.

For a previous coma patient... yeah. Stiles can get why he needed to move. 

"Three months," Stiles said.

"I've been gone for _three months?"_ Peter demanded. "And  _nobody_ noticed?"

Stiles shrugged. "We don't really like you. Why would we?" He sighed. "Anyway, I'm guessing you got taken after we put you in Eichen?"

"When the mass breakout happened, yes." Peter nodded, tone clipped. Stiles had probably insulted him. Oh well. "On the road out of town."

"You were leaving?" Stiles asked, surprised. 

"Would you rather I'd planned on staying?" Peter returned. 

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Considering what you wanted prior to us locking you up, well, I guessed that you'd still want that after you got free."

"Not that I didn't want it," Peter admitted freely, "But my time in the ward... changed my perspective, shall we say."

"Sure," Stiles said, dryly. "Let's go with that."

Peter smirked. 

* * *

Malia frowned. "What's wrong?" She asked Scott.

"My keys." He said. "They're - not working." Malia frowned. "Maybe because you aren't using your keys?" She asked, blunt and as if it were obvious. 

Scott frowned at the keys he was holding. Reached into his pocket and found his  _actual_ keys - but he could have sworn...

"Maybe they're your car keys?" Malia asked, head shaking slightly as it always did when she was stating what she thought to be obvious. "I don't -" Scott started, but then paused. He'd - he'd driven a lot, right? He remembered that. They certainly didn't go to Mexico on his motorbike. 

Been driven. He'd driven. No difference. He'd driven, not been driven - why... what? No. Scott frowned at the keys some more. 

"Scott," She said, exasperated. "You probably just parked your car somewhere stupid. Again."

"I talked to the sheriff the other day," Scott said. "And then Liam called me... do you think I left the - the jeep there?"

"Obviously," Malia said. "Now - hurry up," She said, impatiently, "We're going to be late."

Scott could have sworn... but no. No, that can't be right. These are his keys - they must be. 

Scott frowns at them. There's' something - he squints, but he can't quite make it out. 

Like writing. Initials. Scott squints some more. 

" _Scott,"_ Malia demanded. Scott shook his head and put the keys in his pocket. 

Later. 

Scott used his actual keys and revved the engine. 

* * *

Lydia wandered into the School. Something had been plaguing her mind all morning - something she couldn't quite place. She was - she was supposed to meet someone. Malia, maybe. Scott, more likely. 

But that - that wasn't... it wasn't  _right._

"Hey," Malia asked. "What's wrong?" Scott continued. Lydia, with a mental jolt, realised she'd been standing just in front of the school's doorway. 

"I - I was supposed to meet someone." She muttered. 

"Who?" Scott asked. 

"... I don't remember." She said. It felt - important. Her throat hurt, her brain was ringing, there was the chanting on the airwaves she'd gotten used to -

But there was something else, too. A gunshot. Lydia flinched, and Malia reached out, patted her shoulder.

"Probably us," She said. "Maybe - maybe you forgot Kira wouldn't be here?" She offered. Stilted. Malia had done that a few times, Lydia knew. 

Yeah. It - it had been a few months, but... that sounds right. 

She'd just forgotten a friend wouldn't be here. Yeah. 

Lydia nodded, and Scott's previously cloudy expression cleared. "Great," He said. "Let's go to homeroom, yeah?"

"... I don't have homeroom with you," she said. 

" - Oh," Scott responded. "I thought - I was waiting..." He frowned. "Uh."

"We can walk together," Malia interrupted, impatient. "Let's go!" And with that, she stormed off. Scott and Lydia shared an amused glance, then followed. 

A chat for later, then, Lydia supposed. 

Whatever it was she'd forgotten... it couldn't be  _that_ important. Right?

* * *

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a coyote on her doorstep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, gonna say this now... I don't know where to go from here? I'm not watching the shitshow that is season six, after that foray into the first episode and facepalming twenty million times I am most definitely vetoing that... does anyone have any good recaps they recommend? Or transcripts that describe what happened in the episode as well (like, they put in the actions of the characters alongside their dialogue and also actually make the dialogue properly spaced out, because I can only find really crappy transcripts that don't even say which character says what, which, ugh) ? I'd be really thankful if you could link or tell me where to find them! :D

Stiles was the one pacing, now. 

" _Sit down_ ," Peter said. "You're making  _me_  tired." Considering how Stiles thought of Peter, that wasn't exactly the best tactic. Stiles paced more. 

"I don't know what to do," Stiles muttered, "So let me think, okay?"

"There's nothing we  _can_ do. Don't you get it?" Peter demanded. 

"There's  _something!"_ Stiles gritted his teeth together, momentarily. "There has to be."

"Fine," Peter said, suddenly bored. "Waste your time, if you like. At least I'll be entertained."

Stiles ignored him and started exploring the station. Despite what Peter had said, he still (with a long-suffering sigh, mind you) got up off the bench to follow along. 

Stiles tried a door - it opened easily enough, and he went through. Only to appear on the other side of the room.

"What," Stiles said flatly. He moved out of the way, then Peter tried the door and got the same result. 

"Interesting," Peter said. "No way out, then."

"That way," Stiles corrected, "No way out  _that way."_

Stiles checked a few more doors, just in case. The last one he checked (because it was  _always_ the last one) was the only locked one. 

"Well?" Stiles said, gesturing to the lock. "Help me."

Peter rolled his eyes but broke the lock all the same. The two entered the room. Within, was a radio. 

"Jackpot," Stiles said, cheerfully. "Now... let's get back. We don't want the Riders getting suspicious."

They were free to go around the station, but once the Riders were there, it was best to keep a low profile. Being missing is a high profile thing, you see, and Stiles can't afford that. 

* * *

It was the middle of maths. A math, actually - Malia couldn't remember which. Why couldn't she? She was sure she'd studied this with... someone. 

Kira, maybe. Scott? No... they didn't sound right. Perhaps it was - no, she knows what she studied with Lydia.

... okay then. Self-taught it is. 

Malia paused in her automatic highlighting. She'd hit a snag, so to speak.

 _Style._ She knew what style was. Not in the context of Maths, of course, but she knew what style meant, generally speaking. 

So... why did it stump her? Malia didn't know. She didn't know, and she didn't care, because it didn't matter. She highlighted it in red, then moved on. 

It didn't take long before something else happened. The teacher handed in their papers, which...

Malia could have sworn she did better; that she's done better. But who helped her? She - maybe it was... but no, she'd slept with him out of boredom and attraction but they hadn't spoken since. 

Who could it be then? Malia... didn't know. 

And the grade - ugh. She hates maths. 

Malia frowned - wait, was that?

Her claws. Yes, it was her claws. What the - but she's got control; she can fully shift, there's no problem there... what-

"Malia." Lydia hissed. " _Breathe."_

Breathe. She can do that. Malia breathed, in, out, in and out. She's not sure who taught her that either; how to calm yourself. She's... she's not sure who taught her a lot of things, now that she thinks about it. 

Her claws retracted, and she frowned. 

... weird. 

"What was that all about?" Lydia whispered. She smiled as the teacher passed and then returned her attention to Malia. "Well?"

"... Nothing," Malia found herself saying.

"Nothing, just - control slipped. Sorry."

"Try not to let that happen again during class, please," Lydia said. 

"Sure." Malia nodded. "No problem."

* * *

Scott frowned. Liam was doing  _really, really well,_ so why did he still have this feeling that he was pretty bad at lacrosse? Liam was his only close male friend, really, and Scott had the distinct memory that it was a male friend who was bad at the sport.

"Uhm." He said, frowning. 

"Something wrong?" Liam said, and Scott - shook his head. Slowly. "No," He found himself saying.

"Nothing's wrong." 

Liam went back to taking shots at the goal, and Scott turned and walked over to the benches. He sat down and frowned some more. 

Scott took out his keys. Despite what Malia had convinced him of... Scott - Scott wasn't sure they were his. He squinted at the initials scratched into the keys. 

 _M.S_. Scott was S.M, not M.S - they were the wrong way around; reflected. Also, Scott was pretty sure he didn't know _anyone_ with the initials M.S.

Maybe he'd been tired when he scratched them in? Scott wondered. That might make sense. But - 

Scott never got the Unrestricted licence alongside his Motorcycle licence. He'd never thought he'd need one... and now he can't remember why. He'd started going through the process recently - even  _Liam_ had one before him - but it was like...

Scott hadn't thought he'd need one just yet, because - because -

Scott frowned. Because of what? What reason was good enough to not bother with a normal licence? 

"McCall!" Coach called out, breaking Scott's train of thought. "Stop - whatever it is you're doing, and get in goal! Show these idiots how it's done!"

Scott nodded, grabbed his lacrosse stick, and jogged over to the goal. 

* * *

Malia frowned. She was in Biology - a subject she... wasn't a huge fan of, but one she could stand - and...

She was stuck. Malia frowned at the question - found herself  _growling._

"Malia," Ms Martin said, quietly. " _Malia,_ you need to calm down." Malia looked up at Ms Martin, eyes blazing blue, wide and confused because - 

 _"I can't,"_ She said. 

"I thought you had this under control!" Ms Martin hissed, and Malia snapped her pencil. "So did I," Malia muttered, suddenly angry. 

"Malia, if you're going to shift, please don't do it in front of everyone," Ms Martin said, even quieter. 

"Please, may I be excused?" Malia said, loud enough for the class to hear.

"Of course." Ms Martin said. "While you're at it, could you find Lydia, please? She went out for - the toilet... some time ago, and hasn't returned."

Malia hadn't noticed. She probably wasn't going to look, but she nodded all the same. 

She didn't really care. Lydia was a friend, but she'd leave her behind in a heartbeat.

Wait. What? 

Malia stood confused once more, then grabbed her stuff and packed it away, quickly, uncaring of how it looked - and bolted. 

She was halfway down the next corridor before she couldn't hold it back any longer - she shifted, on the spot, her clothes falling to the floor behind her, ruined. She remembered (but only just) to grab her bag between her teeth, and  _ran._

* * *

Lydia was at the Sheriff's house. She was staring off, into the distance - something had brought her here. 

There was something dead here. She could sense it. 

"Lydia," Scott said, "I got your message," He continued. "What's wrong?"

"There's something dead here." She said. "Something long dead. Something that shouldn't be here."

Someone. Lydia - 

The Sheriff lived alone. Why were there three cars in the driveway? 

"Wait," Scott said. He frowned at the oldest car - the jeep, with a blue coat of paint. "I - "

Scott frowned some more. He took something out of his pocket - keys, Lydia saw, and she got a jolt of familiarity from them. She should recognise those keys, Lydia knew. But not as Scott's. 

Scott walked over to the jeep, put the keys in the lock and turned them. The door opened. 

"Oh." He said. He closed the door and locked it, then stepped back. Scott pocketed the keys, almost mechanically, as he looked over the vehicle. 

"There's a police radio in there," Scott said. "Why do I have the keys to one of the Sheriff's cars?" 

"Don't tell him," Lydia said, immediately. She just - she knew they needed those keys. That car. 

It was like her drawings of the Nemeton all over again. She knew that car was important, that Scott's new keys were _important._

"I got given them a couple days ago," She heard Scott say - almost... distant. "I - I don't remember if I knew who gave them to me."

That was - odd. Lydia walked over to Scott, concerned. "We'll figure it out," Lydia said, determined. "We - " She paused. "... we always do."

Scott nodded, turned around. The two walked up to the Sheriff's door and knocked the same way they'd done in the past. 

The door opened. Lydia - paled. 

"Mrs Stilinski," Scott said, cheerfully, "Can we talk to your husband, please?" 

She elbowed Scott, who looked at her, frowned, and looked back to the  _dead woman_ apologetically. "Sorry," He said, "It's important."

"Of course,"  _Claudia fucking Stilinski_ said, nodding - but she looked askance at Lydia. She seemed... wary.

The bitch certainly should. That is  _not_ Noah's wife. She's  _dead._

Lydia would know. How does she know? It was news, of course it was - everybody knew that the Sheriff's wife had died. That Claudia Stilinksi had died. 

But that wasn't the only reason she knew, aside from being a banshee. What was the third one?

The dead woman turned around and went further into the home. Moments later, Mr Stilinski was at the door. "Scott, Lydia." He said.

"What do you need? Is it something -" Here, he lowered his voice, " _Supernatural?"_

"Maybe," Scott said. "Lydia-"

"Thinks there's something up with your jeep," She quickly interrupted. "Can we borrow it?"

The Sheriff nodded. "Alright," He said. "But bring it back in good condition, you hear? She's in bad shape enough as it is."

Lydia nodded, smiling as best she could, then grabbed Scott by the arm and dragged him to the blue vehicle. 

"Tell me you sensed something up with Claudia?" Lydia said. "Please."

Scott frowned at her. "Why would I think there was something wrong with her?" He asked. "I mean, if you're talking about her FTD, then, that's not the nicest thing to say, Lydia." He said, reprimanding.

"I'm  _not,"_ Lydia said, hotly. "She's  _dead,_ Scott. That is a  _dead woman,_ walking around as if she  _wasn't dead."_

Scott frowned at her, more concerned than before. "Are you sure you're okay?" He asked. "You haven't had a problem with her before."

"I'm perfectly fine," Lydia dismissed. "But Claudia Stilinski died in the mid-2000s, okay? She shouldn't be walking around like that didn't happen."

Scott nodded, slowly. Appeasing, Lydia knew. Being friends with - well, it meant he probably had all the patience in the world for statements like her's. 

"Let's just get this jeep somewhere safe, first, okay?" Scott asked rhetorically. "Then we'll talk about this."

Lydia nodded, sighed. Went around to the passenger side as Scott unlocked the driver's, waited patiently as he leaned over and unlocked her side.

Lydia felt like she'd done this before. Scott looked a little uncertain, but he seemed familiar enough with the movements you used to get this car started and to let others in. 

"Let's go," He said, a small frown on his face. Scott reversed out of the drive and went to his house. 

* * *

There was a coyote curled up on her doorstep. The adult that was this coyote should know better, of course, but here she was all the same.

"Malia." She said, and the coyote looked up at her with glaring blue eyes. 

Ah. The woman crouched down, not exactly concerned, but willing to help. "Are you stuck?" She asked.

The coyote shook her head - a strange action, for such a creature, if it were any other coyote than this one. 

"Come inside," She instructed, then went into her home. She went into the furthest bedroom back, the one that wasn't currently in use. She took a dressing gown from the closet - it would be a bit short on the coyote-girl, but at least it would be something. She laid it out on the floor, turned around, and waited.

"Thank you," She heard, after a moment. "You are a friend of my daughter's," Noshiko responded. "It would be wrong to leave you without clothing."

Malia nodded, awkwardly. This girl didn't have many ties here - aside from Kira, aside from the boy alpha. Perhaps she had other friends, Noshiko didn't claim to know, but she knew that a creature such as a coyote, well, they weren't inclined to stay without something or someone to keep them close by. 

Noshiko had been similar, as a young kitsune. There was some truth to the trickster stories throwing the Coyotes and the Foxes and the Ravens into one group, after all. 

Trickster spirits. Noshiko didn't like that she was lumped in with the nogitsunes of the world, but that is how it is. 

"Is there anything you need?" Noshiko asked, politely. The girl had been on her doorstep, after all.

"I don't know," Malia said, frowning. "I just - lost control." She admitted, awkward again. "I don't remember much from the time between shifting in an empty school hallway and appearing on your doorstep... sorry, Ms Yukimura." She apologised. Perhaps genuinely; Noshiko didn't claim to know her very well. And there was some truth to the 'trickster spirits' category including Coyotes - they were rather good at hiding things. From themselves, and other beings. 

Noshiko nodded. "Tea?" She asked. Malia nodded, slowly, still frowning. 

Noshiko... truthfully, she missed her daughter, even if it hadn't been that long and she was likely to live long enough to see her daughter once she came back. Even seeing a friend of her daughter's... it brought some comfort. Knowing the people behind Kira's reasons to stay with the skinwalkers were still able to be part of those reasons. 

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> we'll see if I continue this... had a bout of inspiration, but that might not happen again. I've got two works on here (Death Of Innocence and You're Supposed to Change) that I have no intention of continuing, for example. Well. At least no intention for the second one. Maybe.  
> ~~~~  
> I'm watching the episode for the first time so that I can get a gist of what I need (only for this one chapter, so you know) and OMG what the fuck have they done with the opening credits???? HAHAHA no, that - they can't be serious. I like Malia's, and putting the Darach next to Lydia kind of makes sense, but ???? for the rest, like, what the actual fuck, lmao. Laughing probably wasn't the reaction they were going for, but that seriously took all the tension away like damnnnnn haha. I jfc with this show rn, omg. 
> 
> Also, I've closed a plot hole! And I finished the episode. Wowwww, that was even more shit than I thought it would. The cinematography (aside from the lighting) was the only decent thing about the episode. Yikes. Yell with me in the comments about how bad it was, lol.


End file.
